


she used to be mine

by EmmaLuLuChu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, Other, Post-S8 compliant, Unplanned Pregnancy, mentions of domestic abuse, one-sided Hunk/Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaLuLuChu/pseuds/EmmaLuLuChu
Summary: She had never really understood when people talked about songs that made them cry, why listen to them if that’s what they did to you? How could this song suddenly come bursting into her eardrums and change that for her?-Pidge reflects on where she is thanks to a song she hears on the radio.Post-S8 compliant AU
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	she used to be mine

**Author's Note:**

> this is a heavier piece of work, please heed the warning tags and take care of yourselves <3

Silence only meant that there was no soundwaves reverberating through the air, invisible and bouncing off of every surface until they reached an ear to be properly heard, and in the absence of sound there was just a faint ring in one’s ears, there to let you know that your sense of hearing was working just fine.

None of that explained why the silence pressed down like a heavy weight on Pidge’s body, keeping her trapped on the edge of the seat she had forced herself to sit down on after watching the small device she had worked on smash to the floor and get stomped on. It was just the rough base for a copy of Rover she wanted to make, but the idea of seeing that familiar triangular friend floating around had made Pidge so happy. Creating and tinkering with her hands again after what felt like months and months felt amazing.

Hearing the man she had foolishly gotten involved with scream at her about ‘stopping with this butch gizmo shit’ only broke that little bit of happiness she had managed to find.

She jumped a little as there were finally soundwaves again, bouncing to her from the radio she had messed with to turn on at specific times from the kitchen. It had been ridiculously simple and silly to do, but it helped her imagine that it was Hunk in the kitchen, cooking a meal or snack. It finally got her to move to poor little Rover on the floor, grunting as she carefully lowered herself to the ground despite how big her stomach had gotten.

Apparently she was at the point in pregnancy where she was supposed to be doing very little, resting her poor delicate body as it got ready to push out a screaming baby from her uterus. Maybe that was what got Carson so worked up about her tinkering.

A small voice in Pidge’s head insisted that  _ no, he’s abused you and now you’re gaslighting yourself. You have to leave him. _

A year ago, she would’ve listened, but now it was easier to just ignore it.

Pidge stood up, holding the remains of Rover in her hands as she went to go take it to the trashcan, walking into the kitchen. The only thing she had noticed as she walked was the next song being introduced on the radio and the start of a slow piano melody, and before her hands could open up to allow the pieces to drop into the trash, the beginning words of the song made her pause.

_ It’s not simple to say, that most days _

_ I don’t recognize me _

The words stabbed through her, freezing Pidge on the spot. The next few lyrics were about some restaurant, but those first words were enough to make her shakily put Rover down onto the counter instead and standing still, almost as if she was waiting for instructions from the female voice that drifted from the defunct little radio.

_ It’s not easy to know _

_ That I’m not anything like I used to be _

_ Although it’s true, I was never _

_ Attention’s sweet center _

_ I still remember that girl _

The odds that this exact song would have come on exactly after the radio Pidge had programmed to turn on at the exact time she had input and randomly flip to any number of stations that it could reach was so hard to calculate. She scoffed at the idea of higher beings watching over them all, but that same small voice inside couldn’t help but suggest that somewhere far out in the galaxy, Allura had pulled some strings to send Pidge a message.

_ She’s imperfect, but she tries _

_ She is good, but she lies _

_ She is hard on herself _

_ She is broken and won’t ask for help _

Pidge couldn’t understand what was happening, shuffling back out into the living room feeling lost and something tight growing in her chest, biting her lip and furiously wiping at her eyes in some attempt to make it go away. This wasn’t the first time she had felt like this today, or even the past week or month, these feelings had become mainstays in her life as she came to terms with the situation she was in. She had never really understood when people talked about songs that made them cry, why listen to them if that’s what they did to you? How could this song suddenly come bursting into her eardrums and change that for her?

_ She is messy, but she’s kind _

_ She is lonely most of the time _

_ She is all of this mixed up and baked _

_ In a beautiful pie _

She inhaled as a sob wracked her body, holding herself as the last of her willpower to keep from bawling like a baby broke as she heard those last words, remembering back to what feels like ages ago to staying up late one time on the Castle of Lions. Seated in it’s kitchen, rolling her eyes as Hunk smiled and said the same analogy about pie to her as they talked about their lives, the exact moment her crush for the boy first bloomed because nobody had ever given her such a beautiful compliment.

Pidge ached to be that girl again.

_ She is gone, but she used to be mine _

The tears were coming hard and fast now, Pidge scrambling to try and stop but she was so  _ tired _ . That’s all she ever was now, tired,  _ tired,  _ **_tired._ ** Tired of Carson screaming at her, of being forced to stay in this house to become the perfect doting little housewife, only to put on a facade when any of her family or friends came by to see how she was doing, like she wasn’t questioning everyday how the hell things had turned out as they are now like all of her friends did too. Pidge reached out to grab a tissue from the end table next to her to try and start mopping at her face, only for her eyes to land on the framed pictures next to the tissue box and make her cry more.

One was of her family, relieved smiles all around in their first family photo after finally being reunited. It was a good few weeks after Pidge had come home and woken up from Voltron’s fall to Earth, but she still remembers how much Mom Dad and Matt clung onto her. She had found it ridiculous at the time, but now she’d give anything to be close to them again.

Another frame held that group photo all of her friends had taken around the statue created in Allura’s honor, all of their smiles seeming genuine at the time but now seemed forced, none more so than Coran. Forcing themselves to be okay with Allura sacrificing herself and leaving her family behind that didn’t even raise a finger to make her stay.

_ If I’m honest _

_ I know I would give it all back _

_ For a chance to start over _

_ And rewrite an ending or two _

_ For the girl that I knew _

Pidge couldn’t stand to look at that photo anymore, all she could see was all of them trying to live with their friend no longer existing, to sweep the heartache under the rug. Were it possible to travel back to that moment in space-time, to grab Allura by the hand and scream at her to stop, Pidge knows she wouldn’t be the only one to leap for the chance.

Finally she looked at the last frame, sniffling as she reached out to grab it and bring it closer, staring hard at the photo of her and Matt at the launchsite for the Kerberos mission. What she wouldn’t give to travel back to that time, when she was young and carefree and horrendously naive as to what was to come. From losing her family, to battling in a war, only to end with her where she was now. Depressed and being steered into a lifestyle she had never wanted.

_ Who’ll be reckless, just enough _

_ Who’ll get hurt, but who learns _

_ How to toughen up _

_ When she’s bruised and gets used _

_ By a man who can’t love _

That smile was filled with so much hope and excitement and used to be so genuine it hurt. Now the only smiles Pidge can manage are flimsy, fake, and fearful of letting anyone else on about how she truly felt these past few months. Her other hand reached to grab at her stomach, quickly pulling it away as Pidge’s hand was met with a touch from inside her belly, crying harder. She couldn’t be a mother! No mother flinched away from their baby like this, or would have put themselves into a place where some brute likely wouldn’t hesitate to raise a hand at a crying child if he did the same to the girl he claimed he loved. It was one thing to get herself stuck in this position, but to bring an innocent baby into it as well was horrifying.

_ Then she’ll get stuck _

_ And be scared of the life that’s inside her _

_ Growing stronger each day _

_ ‘Til it finally reminds her to fight _

_ Just a little _

_ To bring back the fire in her eyes _

It’s unfair how much these words hurt Pidge so much yet resonated so deeply within her, it made her throat feel raw and her hands shake but somehow it made her blood boil too. She barely realized it as her hands tightened on the frame, the shaking now all over her body as something big and achy built up in her lungs. Somehow, Pidge watched from the outside as she hurled the frame across the room, unable to hear the shattering glass and wood as she screamed louder and harder than she could ever recall in her life. She could feel how red her face was above the irritated throb of her throat and snotty nose, surprising herself as she made sure to help herself down rather than carelessly crash to her knees, covering her face as that bout of anger finally gave her the permission to openly weep.

_ That’s been gone _

_ But used to be mine _

_ Used to be mine _

It was a miracle that Pidge could even still hear this song, with how badly she was crying, but she was desperately hanging onto every single word, the small voice once again suggesting Allura, and finally Pidge found herself acknowledging the voice as she listened to the last words of the song. Yes she had gotten tired as everything with this baby had escalated far out of her control, but this song made her realize what she was really tired of.

_ She is messy, but she’s kind _

_ She is lonely most of the time _

Pidge was tired of not being herself anymore. Not Katie, but the Green Paladin of Voltron. 

_ She is all of this mixed up and baked _

_ In a beautiful pie _

Pidge wanted to be that girl again. The girl that she had become all on her own as she found herself having to save the universe. All it took was some serendipity, and maybe a little help from her long lost princess to make her realize it.

_ She is gone _

_ But she used to be _

Pidge  _ was  _ going to become that girl again.

_ Mine _

**Author's Note:**

> this is an au i've entertained for a little while, but the motivation to write this was really selfish actually. 2020 has been super super rough for everybody, and one of the more frustrating things for me has been writing. it's been an issue for me ever since s8 dropped, but more so this year with all the hardships felt around the world. i've gotten back into reading fanfic recently now that i feel i have the time but almost instantly i started to make myself feel inferior about everything i've ever created and that's not fair to myself.
> 
> every writer understands this feeling, not feeling good enough. but here's my reminder not just to myself, but to every other writer as well who feels this:
> 
> I am a good writer.  
> You are a good writer.  
> We all are good writers.
> 
> It doesn't matter how many fics you've written or how many of them sit incomplete or how far apart each fic or chapter has been put up
> 
> We do amazing work, don't stress about your pace, and write what genuinely makes you happy or speaks to you in the moment.
> 
> you are a good writer.


End file.
